An Sheng had never cared for those warbling, clamorous opera performances. They were noisy and tedious to him.
But A Mei liked them. Seeing how delighted she was, he patiently sat through them with her.
When the performance ended and the curtain fell, A Mei was thoroughly satisfied. She chattered away, recounting the earlier parts of the story to An Sheng.
An Sheng was a little helpless, yet he listened attentively all the same, even thoughtfully handing A Mei her tea twice.
By the time the final, climactic act began, An Sheng took A Mei’s hand. As they strolled along at an unhurried pace, he said, “All right, now we know how the rest of the story goes. Come on—your husband happens to have some free time today, so I’ll take my wife out for a walk. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”
Tilting her head to one side, A Mei blinked and smiled behind pursed lips. “But haven’t you told everyone that you’re bedridden from overwork, so ill you can’t even receive visitors? Wouldn’t going out give the game away?”
An Sheng gave a derisive snort, contempt flashing in his eyes. The corner of his mouth curled in a smile that was all sharp edges and pretense. “Then you don’t understand, my wife. Given my current standing, I’d like to see who would dare say I’m anything but upright, honorable, and utterly selfless. Anyone who did must be tired of living.”
A Mei: …
Seeing the look on A Mei’s face—an expression that plainly said, *My husband really is shameless*—An Sheng could barely contain his delight. He slipped an arm around her and drew her into his embrace, lightly tapping the tip of her nose as he coaxed in a low voice, “As long as it’s for accompanying my wife, even if I were truly too sick to get out of bed, I’d have someone carry me there to keep you company.”
His words were somewhat exaggerated, but to A Mei they only made her heart melt. She nestled softly against his chest and said, “Everything is always your way, isn’t it, Husband? Then let’s hurry. I happen to want to go to the Jade Pavilion.”
“Fine. The Jade Pavilion it is.”
The Jade Pavilion was a renowned restaurant in Lindong.
Fine wines like liquid jade, delicacies served on jade plates—everything one could want was available there.
A Mei was in high spirits that day. The moment they entered their private room, she began sweetly pestering An Sheng, saying she wanted to have a few drinks.
An Sheng raised his brows high, his tone affectionate yet helpless. “With your tolerance for alcohol, Wife, you’d better drink less.”
At once, A Mei pouted. “Then—I’ll just have fruit wine. Is that all right?”
“All right, all right! Of course it is!” An Sheng hurriedly agreed. He instructed the attendants to prepare it, then led A Mei to her seat.
Suddenly, A Mei’s eyes gleamed with mischief. In a conspiratorial whisper, she said, “Hey, Husband. The moment we came into the Jade Pavilion, I noticed it was full of beauties. There are plenty of dancers and singers too. Do you think this place might be like Chasing Wind House in the capital—actually that kind of establishment?”
An Sheng’s expression remained perfectly calm as he knowingly asked, “What kind of establishment does my wife mean?”
A Mei shot him a reproachful glare. “Hmph. How can you still pretend not to understand? I mean a brothel!”
The corner of An Sheng’s mouth twitched. He coughed softly, then said, “There isn’t a man in this world who doesn’t enjoy wine, women, wealth, and status—drinking, lust, greed, and showing off. That is why there are so many different sorts of pleasure dens and gilded haunts. When you get down to it, they’re all the same thing in a different wrapper.”
A Mei gave an “oh” and nodded in agreement. “That’s true.”
Just then, the food and wine were brought to the table. An Sheng personally poured A Mei a cup of fruit wine. “Madam, have a taste. See if it suits your palate.”
A Mei raised the cup and drained it in one gulp. Smacking her lips as she savored the aftertaste, she looked at An Sheng with crescent-shaped eyes and said sweetly, “Mm, it’s not bad.”
After several cups of fruit wine, A Mei waved at the attendants in the room. “You may all leave. There’s no need to wait on us.”
Once everyone had withdrawn, A Mei rose with her wine cup in hand. Under An Sheng’s curious gaze, she moved to his side and sat directly across his lap. She took the wine into her mouth and, lips pressed together to hold it there, stared at him with wide, watery eyes without blinking.
An Sheng narrowed his long eyes, his gaze darkening. “Madam, what are you—”
Before he could finish, A Mei wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
The tart sweetness of the fruit wine immediately flooded their mouths. As An Sheng savored it, he found it cloyingly sweet.
The moment A Mei got her way, she released him. With a sly, playful grin, she asked, “A Mei suddenly wanted Husband to taste the wine. Husband, is it sweet?”
After a moment, An Sheng licked his lips. He lifted a finger and let it rest against A Mei’s soft lips, slowly and gently caressing them. The delicate, damp sensation made him narrow his eyes, while something dark and turbulent surged in their depths. At last, he spoke in a low, husky voice.
“Sweet.”
A Mei beamed. She shifted, about to rise from his lap—
—but An Sheng swiftly caught her waist and held her in place. His deep eyes fixed on hers as he spoke in a commanding tone that allowed no refusal:
“This wine is far too delicious. I want more.”
A Mei blinked, not understanding the implication of his words at first. She nodded readily. “All right! There’s plenty left in the wine jar. I’ll pour you some—y-you should let me go first.”
Keeping one arm securely around A Mei, An Sheng reached out with the other and picked up the wine jar from the table. He poured some wine, brought the cup to A Mei’s lips, and said, flames seeming to dance in his dark eyes, “Just as before. Hold it in your mouth and feed it to me.”
At last, A Mei realized what he meant, and her face flushed red. It was true that she had taken the initiative earlier—her reasoning had been simple: she wanted to, so she did. But now…
A Mei raised her eyes to meet his, trembling beneath the fierce possessiveness and burning affection in their depths. Her lashes fluttered, and with them, her heart. Then she thought: if Husband liked it, she would indulge him.
An Sheng had been right—A Mei truly had a low tolerance for alcohol. Even the mild fruit wine was enough to leave her pleasantly tipsy after being passed back and forth between their entwined lips.
At first, A Mei did not realize she was drunk. She only felt hot. Tugging at her clothes, she pouted and said, “Husband, I’m so hot. Help me take this off.”
An Sheng was immediately considerate enough to grant A Mei her wish. Perhaps she had moved too much, for even the collar of her inner garment had come undone. An Sheng had only helped her remove her outer robe, and upon seeing this, he reached out to pull her inner garment back together and help her put it on properly. But A Mei, without the slightest coyness, said she wanted to take that off as well.
“It’s hot. Take it all off. It’s only my husband here—there’s no one else. Leaving the undergarment on is enough.”
An Sheng: …
“Very well. I’ll do as my wife says.”
Once she had taken it off, A Mei obediently settled herself on An Sheng’s lap. Tilting her head up, her bright, watery eyes blinking, she pointed at her plump, glistening red lips in a coquettish manner.
“Husband, why do they feel all tingly? Take a look—are they swollen? It’s all your fault. You kissed me too hard just now.”
From this position, all An Sheng had to do was lower his gaze slightly to take in the full sight of A Mei’s round, full breasts in his arms.
Sure enough, his eyes did not fall upon those pitiful little lips. Instead, as expected, his gaze fixed hungrily upon the soft, delicate curves practically spilling free.
The wine was going to her head, and A Mei’s reactions grew slower and slower. She blinked once, then again, before following An Sheng’s gaze and looking down.
Then, shielding her chest with one hand, she pouted sweetly, “Husband, I’m talking to you. Don’t look there.”
An Sheng swallowed, then raised his eyes again, desire written plainly within them.
“You smell so good, A Mei. I want to kiss you.”
Before A Mei could react, he lifted her up in his arms while she was still straddling him and strode toward the bedchamber.
Once he had pressed A Mei down upon the bed, he impatiently tugged away her thin undergarment. At last satisfied, he buried his face against her breasts and drew in a deep breath, then caught one of her firm, rounded peaks between his teeth.
“Ah…” A Mei shuddered and instinctively twisted away, only for An Sheng to pin her down tightly.
“Husband, y-you shouldn’t bite me.” Dazed by his kisses and gentle bites, A Mei could not help complaining. Feeling lightheaded, she clutched at the bedding beneath her in confusion. The corners of her eyes had been forced red, and she said pitifully, “Mm, I’m so dizzy… Am I drunk? Husband, don’t bully me.”
“Be good. You’re my treasure—how could I ever bear to bully you?” An Sheng coaxed her as he spoke, yet suddenly, as though by magic, produced the box the two of them used during their more intimate moments.
The instant A Mei saw that box, half her drunkenness vanished. Her eyes widened, and a blush visibly spread from her cheeks down her neck. The thought that her husband had brought it along even when they had merely gone out to a restaurant left her mortified. At last, she stammered, “N-no, Husband, wait… How is that here?”
An Sheng replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world, “Haven’t I told you many times? Wherever my wife and I go, this box goes with us.”
A Mei: …
